Accidental Family

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Accidental Family Page 11

by Kristin Gabriel


  “This isn’t right,” she cried after the contraction had passed. “I can’t have the baby yet.”

  “I know,” he murmured, cradling her head against his shoulder. “But you need to stay calm.”

  “I’m in labor! And I’m only in my fourth month. I could lose this baby, Alan.” She choked on the words. “How can I stay calm?”

  He grasped her chin and turned her face to his. “Because I know you can. Our baby needs you to be strong. You have to fight as hard as you possibly can.”

  “I will,” she promised, tears glittering in her lashes. “I’ll do anything for this baby.”

  “I know you will.” He wrapped her in his arms, wishing he could protect them both from the fear that was coiled around his heart. “And I know, at this moment, I wouldn’t want any other woman carrying my child.”

  Before she could respond, another contraction stole her breath away.

  “Hold on,” he said, glancing at his watch again. The contractions were about six minutes apart. Was that good or bad?

  Dumb question. Any contraction at this stage of the pregnancy had to be bad.

  At last, the tension lines around her mouth eased and she slumped against him, the hair on her brow damp with perspiration. “What if the ambulance can’t find us?”

  “They’ll find us,” he said firmly, willing it to be so. “I’ve got the hazard lights flashing on the car. But if you want, I can go up on the highway and flag it down.”

  “No,” she said, grabbing his jacket when he started to move. “Please stay here with me.”

  Hearing the entreaty in her voice, he settled her against him once more, brushing a stray curl off her cheek. He had to help her stay calm. The best way to do that was to concentrate on the future instead of the ominous present. “So do you think our baby is a boy or a girl?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, her voice raw. “Which do you want?”

  He spoke in a low, soothing tone. “Either one would make me happy. Although I’m still partial to the name Ulysses Herman Rand.”

  That brought a smile to her pale lips. “The perfect name for a prime minister.”

  “Or a president.” Alan brushed his lips against her temple. “It seems a little silly now, doesn’t it? The way we’ve been fighting over this baby. I’m sorry if anything I’ve done has caused this to happen.”

  “No,” she assured him. “This isn’t your fault. I’m the one who is sorry. I should have rescheduled my doctor’s appointment when I heard the forecast. I was just so anxious....”

  “I know,” he murmured. “Me, too. But we can’t start blaming ourselves. Neither one of us can see into the future.”

  That was what scared her. Hot tears seeped from her eyes as she admitted to herself that she might lose this baby. If the doctors couldn’t stop the contractions... No, she wouldn’t let herself even think it. Alan was right. She had to stay strong. Had to find a way to hold on.

  * * *

  ALAN WATCHED ROWENA take a deep, calming breath and couldn’t help but admire her courage. Many women would be hysterical by now. Hell, he was feeling a little hysterical.

  Pain flashed in her eyes. “Here comes another one.”

  The contractions were five minutes apart now. “Look at me,” he commanded, his broad fingers lightly squeezing her hand.

  She lifted her amethyst gaze to his. He could see tears gleaming in her eyes, but she rapidly blinked them back. “Now take a slow, deep breath and picture our baby on her first birthday.”

  “You...think it’s going to be...a girl?”

  “I hope so,” he replied. “Especially if she’s as beautiful as her mother. Can you see her in your mind? She has your amazing eyes.”

  “And your dark hair,” Rowena gasped, wishing with all her heart that it would really happen.

  “She’s wearing a party hat and digging her fingers into the frosting on her cake.”

  “What kind...of cake?”

  “Chocolate cake with white frosting and a big pink polka-dot candle.”

  “I want to get her the purple giraffe,” Rowena said, the tears spilling onto her cheeks. “The one I saw at the general store.”

  “I’ll buy it today,” Alan promised, his voice strained. “She’ll be the happiest birthday girl ever.”

  “Please let it come true,” Rowena prayed, her eyelids shuttered as the contraction finally reached its peak, then slowly faded.

  A siren shrieked in the distance, and Rowena almost wept with relief.

  “It will happen, Rowena,” Alan said. “I promise.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ALAN PACED OUTSIDE the emergency room of the North Adams Regional Hospital. The ambulance had brought Rowena in over three hours ago, and he still had no word on her condition.

  What if she’d lost the baby? He kept replaying the accident over and over in his mind. Why hadn’t he slowed down? Why hadn’t he seen that car coming sooner? But he knew the answer, and guilt washed over him. Because he’d let himself get distracted by his sell job to convince Rowena to move herself and the baby to Toronto.

  Now there might not be a baby.

  He knew such an outcome would have probably been a relief to him when he’d first come to Cooper’s Corner. That thought made him feel sick inside. He hated this sense of being out of control. It had happened first when he was diagnosed with cancer. Then when he discovered his sperm had been used against his knowledge—and against his will. Now this.

  But once he’d heard the heartbeat, the baby had suddenly become real for him. Until today, he’d thought of this child as an obligation he had to fulfill. A chance to prove that he could be a good father, unlike his dad. He’d been looking at Rowena’s pregnancy from a purely selfish point of view. How it would affect his life. How he wanted to handle the situation with the least inconvenience to himself.

  That wasn’t the kind of father he wanted to be.

  “Mr. Rand.” He looked up to see Dr. Milburn standing in front of him. He’d been at the hospital for a delivery when his office had paged him about Rowena.

  “How is she?”

  “Rowena is fine. So is the baby. We’ve managed to stop the contractions.”

  “Thank God,” Alan breathed, slumping against the wall.

  “I still want her to stay in the hospital, at least overnight, so I can monitor her condition.”

  “Are you sure the baby’s all right?”

  “Yes,” Dr. Milburn replied. “We’re fairly certain the trauma of the accident triggered the contractions. But fortunately, the membranes didn’t rupture, and the placenta is still intact. Rowena will have to stay in bed at home, at least for a little while. But I think she and the baby will both be just fine.”

  “Can I see her?”

  The doctor nodded. “She’s been transferred upstairs to the maternity floor. As soon as she’s settled into her room, you can go in and see her.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Milburn.” Alan barely restrained from hugging the man. His baby was still alive. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks.

  Twenty minutes later, Alan stood outside the door to Rowena’s hospital room, holding a bouquet of peach roses. His hands were as sweaty as those of a kid on a first date. He took a deep breath, then tapped gently on the hospital door.

  “Come in.” The sound of Rowena’s voice soothed his ravaged nerves.

  He walked inside the room. “Hello, beautiful.”

  A smile curved her lips. “The baby is fine.”

  “I know. Dr. Milburn told me.” He held out the flowers. “I brought these for you.”

  “They’re lovely,” she said, taking the bouquet from him and inhaling the delicate blossoms. “And such an unusual color.”

  “They reminded me of our dinn
er together the other night.” He pulled up a chair. “When I couldn’t get enough of your peach cobbler.”

  Or of looking at you.

  She gazed at him with tired eyes. “A lot has happened since then.”

  He nodded. “More than I ever imagined.”

  She turned to place the flowers on the table beside her. “I’ll have to ask the nurse for a vase to put these in.”

  “I should have thought of that.” He leaned forward, struggling to find the right words. “I should have thought of a lot of things, Rowena. Like how my sudden appearance in Cooper’s Corner might affect your condition. Your life. And today...” He shook his head. “When I think about what could have happened...”

  She reached out and placed her hand on his forearm. “But it didn’t, Alan. Thanks to you. If you hadn’t come with me today...” She shivered. “I don’t want to even think about what might have happened if I’d been alone in that ditch.”

  He scooted his chair closer to the hospital bed. “Are you sure you’re both okay?”

  “Positive,” she assured him. “In fact, this baby is making its presence known.”

  His brow furrowed as he looked at her stomach under the bedcoverings. “What do you mean?”

  “See for yourself.” She pushed down the sheet, then brought his hand to her stomach. The warmth of her skin permeated through the thin cotton hospital gown she wore.

  Then something rippled lightly across his palm. “That’s the baby?” he asked in amazement.

  Her smile widened as she nodded. “I felt the baby move for the first time a few days ago. But now he or she is causing quite a ruckus in there. Maybe the baby heard us considering the name Ulysses.”

  Alan laughed, surprised that he still could after what they’d just been through. “Hey, that was your idea, not mine.” His hand smoothed gently over her stomach. “There he goes again!”

  “Feel better?” she asked.

  “Much.” Then he leaned forward and kissed her. It was a gentle kiss. A kiss of apology. Of gratitude. A kiss that evolved into something more as she parted her lips and let his tongue mate with hers.

  Her hand cradled his cheek as she molded her lips to his mouth. Alan basked in the warmth and softness of her. This seemed so natural. So right.

  “Hey, you two,” a nurse called cheerfully as she walked into the room. “That kind of behavior is frowned upon in the maternity ward. It leads to overcrowding.”

  Alan pulled abruptly away from Rowena, wondering what had just happened. Rowena didn’t meet his gaze as two pink spots blossomed in her cheeks.

  “So how are you feeling?” the nurse asked, checking the IV. Then she grinned. “Or do I need to ask?”

  “Better,” Rowena replied, then motioned to the flowers. “Do you know where I can get a vase?”

  “We’ve got some in the supply closet. I’ll bring one in on my next rounds.” Then she turned to look at the food tray on Rowena’s bedside cart and lifted the lid off the plate. “I see you didn’t touch your supper, young lady.”

  “I wasn’t hungry,” Rowena said, her gaze flicking to Alan and then away again. “It’s been an eventful day.”

  “I know, hon,” the nurse replied with a sympathetic smile. “But you still need to eat. How about if I leave the pudding here in case you want a snack later?”

  “Wonderful idea,” Alan interjected. “I’ll make sure she eats it.”

  The nurse winked at him. “If she still won’t eat, just threaten not to kiss her anymore.”

  Alan looked at the mother of his child. “Do you think that will work?”

  Rowena’s blush deepened. “Sounds like blackmail to me.”

  The nurse walked to the door. “I’ll be back to check on you in about twenty minutes. And I’ll bring a vase.” She disappeared, then stuck her head inside a moment later. “By the way, visiting hours are over in five minutes. But good kissers have a twenty-four-hour pass around here.”

  “How about bad kissers?” Alan asked.

  The nurse chuckled. “If you were a bad kisser, I don’t think Rowena would be on the maternity ward.”

  Alan turned to the bed after the nurse left. “It looks like you’re in good hands.”

  She tucked her hair behind one ear. “You’re probably tired, Alan. You don’t have to stay here.”

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  “No,” she replied truthfully.

  “Good.” He leaned back. “Because this chair is very comfortable.”

  She laughed. “Liar.”

  He cleared his throat, hoping she wouldn’t take offense at what he was about to propose. “Like I said, you’re in good hands here, but what about when you go home? The doctor told me he’ll be ordering complete bed rest for at least the next few days.”

  She tipped up her chin. “I’ll stay in bed for the next five months if it means I can have a healthy baby.”

  He nodded. “The fact is that you’ll need someone to take care of you. I’d like to volunteer for the job.”

  She hesitated. “Alan...”

  “I know we didn’t get off to the best start,” he interjected, before she could turn him down flat. “But I think our truce is going pretty well. I’m a fairly competent cook and I can keep your house running smoothly until you’re up and about again.”

  She licked her lips. “I’m not sure....”

  He stopped her words with one hand. “I’d really like to do this, Rowena.” Now that he’d made the offer, he couldn’t bear the thought of her turning him down. “For you. For our baby.”

  She leaned against the pillow with a sigh. “I promise to make a lousy patient.”

  He grinned. “My favorite kind.”

  She shook her head. “I hope you know what you’re getting into, Mr. Rand.”

  “I think I do,” he said huskily. Then he turned and picked up the bowl of pudding the nurse had left on the table. “Now, are you ready to try a bite?”

  She grimaced. “I know I should eat something, but I’m really not hungry.”

  “But the baby must be. Maybe that’s why he’s so active tonight. Tapioca is probably one of his favorites.”

  “Okay.” She surrendered with a sigh. “I’ll try a couple of bites.”

  “See, you’re not such a lousy patient after all.” He peeled off the plastic wrap and dipped the spoon into the creamy pudding. Then he placed it in front of her mouth. “Ready or not, baby, here it comes.”

  She arched a brow. “I’m perfectly capable of lifting a spoon, Alan.”

  “The doctor said you were supposed to rest. Besides, this makes me feel useful.”

  She hesitated a moment, then dutifully opened her mouth and let him slip the spoon inside.

  “Well?” he asked.

  She wrinkled her nose. “It’s awful.”

  He took a small taste, then tried not to grimace. “It’s no peach cobbler. But I bet our baby loves it.” Then he dipped up another spoonful and held it out to her.

  “I think the baby would rather have chocolate,” Rowena said before taking another bite.

  “You can have chocolate tomorrow,” he promised. He’d promise her anything just to see another smile.

  “If I’m lucky, I’ll be out of here by tomorrow.”

  “Then we’ll have chocolate at home.”

  Home. It seemed so natural for him to say it. But his home was in Toronto. This arrangement between them couldn’t last forever.

  Could it?

  For the first time, Alan wondered why he’d never considered a future with Rowena. Not just living in the same city, but the same house. It would solve a lot of their problems. Besides, they liked each other. Respected each other. And if that kiss had been any indication, there was potential for so much more if they
just gave their relationship a chance to grow.

  He dipped up another spoonful of pudding, then held it out to her. But her eyes were closed, and her head was tilted back on the pillow.

  “Rowena?” he said softly, wondering if she was faking just to get out of finishing her tapioca. But the dark shadows under her eyes convinced him she was exhausted.

  He quietly set the bowl of pudding on the bedside table, then leaned across her to turn off the light. Even after all that had happened today, she still smelled like gardenias.

  Alan slumped down in the chair, exhaustion seeping into his bones. He narrowed his gaze, watching her in the shadows. It amazed him that just a few weeks ago he’d never known this woman existed. Now she was carrying his child.

  And changing his life forever.

  * * *

  ROWENA AWOKE EARLY the next morning as the first rays of dawn began to creep through the window. She turned to see a new nurse standing at her bedside, checking the IV bag.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” the nurse whispered, then motioned to where Alan slept awkwardly in the chair. “He’s been up half the night, just watching you. He obviously loves you a lot.”

  Rowena nodded, but she knew the truth. He loved the baby. With each passing day, the child became more real to him. Like yesterday, when he’d talked about the first birthday party. How could she deny him fatherhood?

  How could she fit him into her life?

  She sighed, pushing the dilemma out of her mind. The scent of roses made her turn toward the bedside table, and she saw the bouquet he’d given her sitting in a green glass vase. Right next to the small bowl of tapioca pudding he’d tried to feed her last night. Two examples that proved Alan Rand wasn’t the tyrant she had so desperately wanted him to be.

  Struggling to sit up in the bed, she placed her hand on her stomach. Thankfully, there had been no more contractions during the night. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so well. Maybe tapioca pudding had a sedating effect.

  Or Alan’s kiss.

  Only it hadn’t made her sleepy. It had made her feel cherished. Desired. Loved.

  She turned her head slightly to study him as he slept, noting the dark shadow of whiskers on his jaw and his tousled brown hair. He looked even more handsome than he had the day he’d walked into her barbershop.

 

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